


ebony

by baccuroth (orphan_account)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Alternate Universe - Priests, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 21:57:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3463496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/baccuroth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>temptation isn't always bold; more often, it is subtle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ebony

**Author's Note:**

> written for [this](http://35grams.tumblr.com/post/107650787714)

the lord’s prayer passes through levi like cool, clear water. pattering fills his ears and dark wooden beads burn the skin beneath his cassock.

it’s raining and levi thinks.

the strangeness has clouded his mind for some days. he shakes loose from its hold for brief minutes through prayer and duty but it always returns.

the storm thickens and services cease for another day.

a figure turns to look back as levi closes the front doors. the rain obscures the finer details but levi can make out his knowing smile.

levi had not seen him in the church that day.

* * *

rituals of hygiene are as important to levi as those of the cloth. washing his face is like baptism and the unscented soap levi lathers onto his face cleanses his mind of impure thoughts. he scrubs and pauses, inhaling the warm steam clouding the small washroom.

shapes play across the mirror, painted in fog. horns spout from a proud head. a rough wet tongue licks the glass, blue eyes fading as levi looks up.

water drips from levi’s chin and he sniffs before wiping at the fogged mirror to get a better look at his tired face.

* * *

the dreams started long ago but levi knows how to shoo them away.

some nights prove harder than others, however.

levi’s fingers, tangled in his rosary, wander.

"join me."

the voice is rich and dark. if levi could taste it, it would melt like ambrosia on his tongue.

the voice implores again. levi closes his eyes tighter.

the palm on his cock rubs harder, as if guided. the beads of his rosary add a delicious element and he almost sobs at how wonderful the touch is.

everything is red and lush. nails tear into flesh and levi shudders as the blood runs.

"join me."

a cracked horn rears up, tearing into the firmament. levi licks his lips. he wants to touch it, feel its hardness against his fingertips.

a soft, sweet hum makes levi’s body ache and then he’s looking down on himself, given over to dark pleasure. his mouth twists up, wooden beads hissing against a throat pocked with bites and bruises. thumbs close off his oxygen and the hand on his cock stops moving.

levi’s pathetic sob has nothing to do with release.

such weakness is unforgivable.

waking up is a slap to the face for which levi is grateful. his skin burns from the creature’s touch, but his rosary is pressed to his lips in a sacred kiss.

his tongue licks the cold crucifix, metallic as blood on his tongue.

* * *

he is grateful to escape communion. prayers echo but levi is lost in the repetitive motion of cleaning fingerprints from windows. his rosary no longer burns and the tightness in his groin is a memory.

a man kneels and levi remembers his smile in the rain.

his lips part and levi remembers his own wicked smile framed by bead and bruise.

a rough wet tongue accepts the wafer.

levi’s lips part to accept a drop of thick, smoky semen. it’s sweeter than wine; he can smell it.

blood rushes to his face and levi gasps. the cloth falls forgotten as the tightness returns and the crucifix all but brands him.

levi fears someone seeing his bare chest; the ebony rosary will burn him down to the breastbone before too long.

* * *

the confessional is of an old make, overly-elaborate with separate rooms and an ornate lattice.

levi has always enjoyed the quiet monotony of confession; his hands are too fidgety to hold anything so some windows will wear their smudges for another day.

someone tall enters and levi pulls on his collar. has it always been so dry and hot?

"forgive me father for i have sinned it has been… many days since my last confession. i accuse myself of the following sins."

"in the name of the father, and of the son, and of the holy spirit. amen."

levi makes the sign of the cross, slow and solemn.

"i have touched myself in the night hours with a mind full of base thoughts."

levi shifts.

the man’s many sins are mundane but levi is lost in the gorgeous depth of his voice.

he shifts again and his throat closes.

the voice…

"i have even touched myself with my prayer beads so close to that intimate place. father."

levi can sense the man looking at him through the lattice.

"father?"

"yes, my son?" the words taste foul on his tongue. he grasps his rosary and feels each bead against the bridge of his nose.

"join me."

"would you repeat that, please?"

a hot, pregnant, cloying pause.

"you heard me, levi."

the man leaves and levi fumbles to follow.

the church is empty but for a middle-aged woman praying for her cancer-stricken husband and the light stealing in where the windows aren’t marred by handprints.

* * *

"join me."

levi can no longer hear god’s voice.

instead, he is filled with one of sin and power. it’s a voice capable of altering the path one walks.

water flows down his face and levi kisses the silver crucifix.

he wants to sleep, even if it will not bring the respite he desires.

"join me."

* * *

the pier is half-drowned, its fence dashed and boards fed to the sandy bottom of the sea.

there is animal movement - silken slide of pure muscle - and levi knows he isn’t alone here.

his fingers itch to curl around that gnarled horn. soft fur tickles his skin through his cassock.

"fair," that ambrosial voice hisses and levi feels it finger its way into his pores. claws try to tattoo messages onto his bones. he wants to be flayed, from throat to groin, by this demon.

he is massive and gorgeous and fits the lock of levi’s body. levi’s hands are made to touch him, he knows this.

teeth close on his pulse and levi grasps that broken horn. it is like touching a true relic and levi sags against the star-hot body.

then a dry mouth is on his and a rough wet tongue is searching for his true self beneath this veneer of righteousness.

the demon has levi by hair and hand and the priest understands what it means to be owned by something other than his faith and it is truly divine.

* * *

daylight is a devil scratching its way into levi’s eyes.

he feels shipwrecked and passes a hand through his tangle of hair as he looks around. his small, simple room stares back.

his feet carry him to the bathroom where he runs warm water and lathers soap. his throat and chest ache as he washes. his forehead throbs as if pricked by poisoned thorns.

levi feels the glow before he sees it and he wipes the water away with a shuddering gasp.

the horns are small and dark. they draw blood from the tip of a curious finger. his revulsion is confused and true.

"fair," he whispers.

what the demon sees in him, levi cannot.


End file.
